How to manage change

September Change

Holding on, letting go, and what stays with us

September has always felt like a month of change. As the evenings begin to shorten, there is a different feel to the air. Children return to school in new uniforms, routines begin again and even if school has not been part of our lives for years, there can still be something about September that feels like the beginning of a new chapter.

Some changes are chosen, some are exciting, and others arrive without warning. Oli Lloyd writes about the impact this can have, and how we might manage the changes.

Change we didn’t choose

We often talk about change as though it is something we should learn to embrace. We are encouraged to be adaptable, resilient and ready to move forward. There can be something useful in that, but it can also make change sound much simpler than it really is, because not every change is welcome.

Perhaps your child has started a new school, or someone has left home, or you’re experiencing changes in your relationship. Your workplace might no longer feel like the place it once was, surroundings might have changed, a friendship has drifted, or you’re noticing the differences as you age. Our children grow up and the world around us is constantly changing; language, technology, expectations and habits.

At times we choose and welcome these things, but sometimes we don’t. One of the harder parts of change can be recognising that life does not always ask for our consent as it moves forward.

The versions of life we call home

We do the same with our families, relationships, work, communities and even ourselves.

Think about a photograph from ten years ago: the people in it may still be part of your life, but that exact family no longer exists. Children have grown older, relationships have developed, new people have arrived and some have left. You have changed too and yet we still recognise it as ours.

This is one of the strange things about being human: we live in constant change while continually creating little pockets of permanence inside it.

We say, “This is my home. That’s my family. That’s who I am.”

Those words give us continuity. They help us make sense of our lives, but underneath them, things are moving all the time.

What do we do with change?

The answer may not be simply to accept it because there are changes we should question, things we may want to resist that are worth protecting and fighting for. Acceptance does not have to mean approval, and adapting to something does not mean pretending that it hasn’t hurt.

Equally, there are things we cannot keep exactly as they are, however much we love them.

Instead of questioning how we can stop things from changing, maybe we can begin by asking:

What does this change mean to me?
What am I losing?
What am I frightened might disappear?
What am I trying to protect?
And, amongst everything that is changing, what still feels like me?

If we are not the same person we were at five, fifteen or twenty-five, what connects all of those different versions of us? Maybe identity is not one fixed thing that survives untouched, maybe it is the thread running between all of those versions.

That thread is the experiences we carry, the relationships that have shaped us, the things we have learned, lost, loved, regretted and survived. Not a permanent version of ourselves, but a continuing ‘story’.

This ‘change of thinking’ can make change itself feel a little different to us. Not necessarily easier, and not necessarily better, but perhaps less like everything that came before has been erased.

As September arrives

For some people September brings excitement, while for others it can bring an unexpected sense of loss. A child walking through a school gate without needing your hand, an empty teenager’s bedroom, or a summer that went too quickly. The awareness that another year has moved on.

We can be proud and sad, ready and frightened, curious about what comes next while still missing what came before. Perhaps we do not need to rush ourselves through that.

We are allowed to love this moment without believing we own it

Part of living with change: to grieve what disappears, to challenge the changes that matter to us, and to welcome what arrives when we are ready.

Change can unsettle far more than our routines. It can touch our sense of identity, belonging, relationships and what we thought our future was going to look like.

Counselling does not have to be a place where someone tells you to “move on” or teaches you to be better at accepting things.

Sometimes it can simply be a space to understand what a change means to you: what you want to hold onto, what you may need to let go of, and what you want to carry with you into whatever comes next.

If you are finding it difficult to navigate change and feel that life’s challenges are becoming too overwhelming to deal with alone, get in touch via our enquiry form. At Trinity Therapy, we believe growth does not come from being fixed. It comes from being understood.

19/10/2026

Counselling Explained: Advice

What to expect from your counsellor

He Didn’t Help Me at All — He Just Sat There and Listened

One of the most common things I hear from people after they’ve tried counselling is this:

“They didn’t do anything. They didn’t tell me what to do, they just sat there and listened.”

And usually, it’s said with disappointment.

That reaction makes complete sense. When something in your life feels broken, painful, or out of balance, of course you want someone to help you fix it. Most of the time, when we ask for help, we’re used to going to an expert — someone who knows more than us, who can tell us what’s wrong and what to do next.

Doctors diagnose.

Plumbers fix.

Teachers instruct.

Coaches direct.

Counselling can feel confusing at times because it doesn’t always work like that.

A common misconception about counselling

Many people come to counselling expecting:

Advice

Answers

A plan

Someone to sort things out

And again — that expectation is not wrong. It’s human.

But counselling isn’t about being fixed. And counsellors aren’t there to take over your life or make decisions for you. Irvin Yalom, a counsellor, once stated “(Counselling)… removes the illusion that someone else can live your life for you.”

In fact, something important (and sometimes uncomfortable) happens early on in counselling:

you realise this person isn’t going to rescue you.

Not because they don’t care — but because that wouldn’t actually help.

So, what is a counsellor doing if they’re not advising you?

At the heart of this discussion is the strong belief that:

‘You are the world’s leading expert at being you.’

No one else has lived your life, had your thoughts, felt things in your body, or navigated your relationships the way you have. Even if things feel incredibly messy inside right now — you still know more about your inner world than anyone else ever could. Because you’re there.

Counselling is about creating the space where you can begin to hear yourself again — sometimes for the first time in a long time.

That listening you experienced? – That was the work!

But isn’t that just… doing nothing?

It can feel that way from the outside.

But being deeply listened to — without judgement, without interruption, without someone steering you toward a solution — is surprisingly rare. And it’s often in that space that things start to shift.

Not because someone told you what to do.

But because you started to understand yourself differently.

That’s why many counsellors are careful about giving advice. Not because advice is bad — but because it can quietly take something important away from you: your sense of agency.

The goal isn’t to replace your inner voice with mine.

It’s to help you trust your own again.

Different counsellors work in different ways

This part really matters.

Counselling isn’t one single thing. There are many different approaches, styles, and ways of working — and counsellors themselves are as individual as thumbprints.

Some counsellors are more structured.

Some offer tools or techniques.

Some focus heavily on listening and reflection.

None of these are automatically “right” or “wrong”.

What matters is fit.

If you sit with a counsellor and it doesn’t feel right — that doesn’t mean counselling isn’t for you. It may simply mean that counsellor isn’t for you. And that’s okay.

I am a huge lover of boardgames and often think; There’s a boardgame out there for everyone — you just might not have found the one you love yet. Counselling can be the same. Sometimes it takes a little shopping around.

And if you keep trying and nothing seems to fit?

That’s not a failure either.

Sometimes it’s about timing.

Sometimes expectations need gently adjusting.

Sometimes the work you’re ready for isn’t the work you thought you needed.

These are not flaws — they’re part of the process of understanding yourself.

So, when is counselling helpful?

Counselling can be really helpful when:

Something inside feels out of balance
You feel disconnected from yourself
You’re stuck, overwhelmed, or repeating patterns
You want to understand why things feel the way they do

If what you need is practical advice — like how to hang a door — I can recommend a brilliant expert for that. But if what you want is a space to talk about you, with someone who will really listen, understand, and walk alongside you while you figure things out in your own way — that’s where counselling comes in.

If any of this resonates with you, you’re very welcome to get in touch with us here at Trinity Therapy.

You don’t need to be fixed.

You don’t need to have the right words.

Sometimes, you just need the time and space to be you — and to appreciate the ‘you’ that’s already there.

(And yes — I know I said “you” a lot. Turns out this work really is about you.)

27/02/2026

New Year new you

New year, new you? (or maybe just… ‘you’)

January is often framed as a time for reinvention – but that pressure can quietly fuel self-criticism rather than growth. Counselling can offer a gentler alternative – one rooted in self-acceptance, reflection, and choice. When change begins with kindness rather than force, it becomes more sustainable, writes Trinity counsellor Oli.

I’ve come to feel that January has adopted a strange reputation.

It’s framed as a fresh start, a reset button, a chance to finally become the person you should be. New habits, new body, new mindset, new motivation. But by February, many people feel they’ve already failed.

From a counselling perspective, January and February are also the busiest months of the year. That’s not an accident. There is a cultural pressure at this time of year to change quickly, to reinvent yourself, to leave parts of yourself behind — often without stopping to ask whether those changes are coming from within or from the noise around us.

In many ways, January has become a kind of harvest season for self-criticism.

Change can’t be forced (even when the calendar says so)

In counselling, we understand that change doesn’t happen just because it’s a good idea – it happens when someone is ready.

If someone isn’t internally ready, no amount of external pressure – New Year or otherwise – will make that change stick.

This is why many resolutions struggle. They are often made because:
• “Everyone else is doing it”
• “This is what I should want”
• “It’s January – now or never”

But ‘should’ is not the same as ‘ready’.

One hypnotherapist once described this beautifully: when helping someone stop smoking, she would ask how committed they were – in percentage terms. If they didn’t answer with 100%, the work would likely not hold. The part that wasn’t ready would resist, hesitate, or quietly pull things back to how they were.

That’s not failure – it’s honesty.

Self-acceptance isn’t giving up, it’s the starting point

At the heart of person-centred counselling is the belief that people grow best in an environment of acceptance, not pressure. In his book On becoming a person, Carl Rogers captured this with one of his most quoted – and most misunderstood – ideas:

“The curious paradox is that when I accept myself just as I am, then I can change.”

This doesn’t mean “don’t change.”
It means change grows best from kindness, not rejection.

When we start from a place of:
• “I’m not good enough”
• “I need to fix myself”
• “I must become someone else”

…we are already working uphill.

But when change comes from:
• “I’m allowed to be human”
• “I want something different for myself”
• “This choice is mine”

…it becomes more sustainable, more compassionate, and more real.

The perfectionism trap (and social media’s quiet role)

January is also peak season for comparison. Social media fills with transformation photos, productivity routines, wellness plans, and success stories. What we see feels like everyone else succeeding – when in reality we’re often seeing a very small percentage of people, amplified until it feels like the norm.

For someone already living with anxiety, depression, trauma, or low self-worth, this can quietly reinforce the belief:

“Everyone else is doing better than me.”

Meaning that many resolutions unintentionally set people up not for growth, but for self-criticism when life inevitably gets in the way.

January as a pause, not a push

So, what if January wasn’t a launchpad… but a pause?

A moment to stop and gently ask:
• Am I heading where I want to go?
• Does this still fit me?
• What do I need more of – or less of – right now?

Reflection doesn’t demand immediate action. It allows space, orientation, and choice. And if, after that pause, you decide you do want to change something, that change is far more likely to come from autonomy, not pressure.

In counselling, we often see that people don’t need more pressure – they need permission.

Gentle questions

Instead of heavy self-analysis, here are a few gentle questions to mull over:
• What’s something I’m being really hard on myself about right now?
• What’s one thing I’ve actually handled this year – even if it didn’t feel perfect?
• If my best friend felt the way I do, what would I want them to hear?

These aren’t about fixing – they’re about relating to yourself differently.

A different ending to the New Year story

Maybe (just maybe), this year doesn’t need a strict resolution, a perfect plan, or a transformed version of you by February.

Change that begins with self-rejection is rarely sustainable – or kind.

Perhaps this year doesn’t need a reinvention. Perhaps it needs permission – to be human, to be unfinished, to be enough as you are while still openly curious about growth.

11/01/2026

Pregnancy

When pregnancy doesn’t feel how you thought it would.

There is no one way to be pregnant. You don’t have to force joy or gratitude when you’re struggling to cope with everything that’s happening, writes Niamh Marriott.

Trigger warning: Mentions of pregnancy loss, eating disorders, antenatal depression and post-natal depression.

Pregnancy can be a time of profound change – physically, emotionally, mentality, and even spiritually. For some, it can bring real moments of excitement, celebration and nervous anticipation. Yet it can also stir up anxiety, fear, sadness, panic, and uncertainty. If this is you, you are not alone, and nothing you’re feeling is wrong.

Finding out you’re pregnant – whether for the first time or third time, after loss or after years of trying, or perhaps even unexpectedly – can bring a whole mix of emotions that don’t often align with how society tells us how we ‘should’ feel.

You might be both thrilled and terrified in the same breath. You might immediately feel a sense of grief for your old self, even as you long for the new life you’re creating. You might feel intense guilt that this isn’t the blissful experience others describe. All of this is OK.

Change can be scary

Being pregnant isn’t just about growing a baby. It’s about navigating constant change – in your body, your hormones, your relationships and your own identity. It can magnify worries you didn’t even know you had, and it can make small concerns feel massive. You might be worrying about your career, your health, your love life, or a million other concerns about birth and becoming a parent.

You’re feeling all of this whilst being constantly bombarded by messaging that keeps telling you this should be ‘the most natural’ thing in the world – that you’re made for this, that you should be thrilled, and feel lucky and grateful.

It’s also worth remembering that antenatal depression, also known as pre-natal depression, and anxiety don’t get talked about as much as post-natal depression, yet they affect a significant number of expectant parents. Feeling low, overwhelmed, or anxious during pregnancy is more common than so many realise, and these feelings are not your fault.

Grief and loss

If you’ve experienced a previous loss, being pregnant can be especially frightening, and you might feel scared to trust that this time it might be different, that you are allowed to hope. You might be thinking that if you put too much pressure on it, feel too much, you might jinx it and it you’ll experience loss again, and grief might overwhelm you once more. So you might even be trying to numb how you feel, or not get attached, too scared to believe it’s real, just in case. This is a really human feeling, and does not make you a failure. You don’t have to express optimism or gratitude if that’s not how you feel.

Body changes can feel strange

It’s also OK if you don’t feel glowing. It’s even OK if you hate how you’re feeling physically – you might be uncomfortable and sweaty, or exhausted and sick. You might be feeling bloated or ugly, or some other unkind words may creep into your thoughts. It’s OK, it’s really hard to be kind to yourself all the time, especially right now. Your inner critic might be getting loud, and that’s quite normal.

For some, the rapid changes in your body during pregnancy can also trigger old struggles with food, body image, or a previous eating disorder, adding another layer of anxiety and self-consciousness.

It’s OK if you’re anxious, or feeling low, or really overwhelmed by everything. Your emotions are valid – every single one of them. We feel what we feel. It’s not a choice, and it’s definitely not something to be ashamed of.

Can counselling help?

If you recognise any of this in yourself, please think about talking to someone about how you feel, whether that’s a friend, a colleague, a family member, or even a counsellor.

Counselling is a supportive space to explore and process all your feelings.

You can talk freely, maybe untangle the web of emotions, and start to understand what you need – emotionally, mentally and practically, during this time of transition.

Counselling can help you find compassion for yourself, set some healthy boundaries, and help you reconnect with who you are beyond the roles you might be feeling pressure to play. It’s not about ‘fixing’ you; it’s about helping you feel seen, heard and understood.

At Trinity Therapy, we understand that pregnancy can be as complex as it is transformative. Whether you’re feeling anxious, disconnected, or unsure of how to navigate it all, we’re here to listen and walk alongside you in your journey.

23/10/2025

Tag: depression